Bad Night at the Bar
The Steel Balloon Within the Steel Balloon, there is a dance floor immediately past the front door. Behind the floor is the main bar, which curves around like an elongated half-octagon. Several bartenders busily serve the customers that flow into this place at any given time. Blast Off sits at the Steel Balloon, reading a datapad. He is in his customary shadowy spot in the corner, not paying much attention to the people moving around him. He sips a wine glass and reads about some ancient Cybertonian history. (He missed many millions of years and there's a lot to catch up on.) In fact, wasn't he here last night? Wasn't he supposed to leave on a mission by now? Well... guess what, the mission was delayed...and he's STILL here. He's made it past the book on Kaon and Vos and is currently on the history of Tarn. He's trying not to get bored as he waits for the mission go-ahead. Airlift has entered The Steel Balloon. Shiftlock is reacquainting herself with the territory. This place looks as good as any-- Until whoops. The car's optics are immediately on Blast Off, and her doorwings raise like the hackles on a scared cat. Things are gonna get uncomfortable soon. Rumble struts in, and has a seat at the bar area. Since he's too short to sit in the regular seating, he simply takes a place on the counter itself. Airlift slinks in as he gets off his shift, having pulled a double yet again, heading for his stool near the end of the bar. "Move.." he says to the pair sitting in his seats, the two neutral's taking one look at the annoyed seeming Reaver and skedaddling quickly so he can take his seat. Moments later, he's back to his usual pose. Feet up on the stool beside him, leaned back against the support column, and pulling an ener-cigar from a subspace pocket. As it blazes to life he looks at the bartender and says, "Unicronian Planet Smasher..make it a double." Blast Off continues browsing his history of Tarn. The city, not the DJD... the latter subject goes into more of a horror category for him and he's not looking to /scare/ himself. Which is just as well, because the femme who just walked in might do that anyway... in a different sort of manner. IF he'd look up to see Shiftlock arrive. At the moment, though, he doesn't, instead reaching over to take another sip from his wine glass and continue readings. The aloof Combaticon hears Airlift speak, but doesn't break away from the datapad or bother to notice anyone. Shiftlock doesn't like being ignored, especially by the Combaticon at the bar. He's brushing up on history while his own is stalking up behind him. She pushes tables and chairs out of her path, making a beeline straight to the shuttleformer, before slamming her hands down on his table and leaning down and in to get right into his face. "HI BLAST OFF," she barks loudly. Tarn... interesting fellow. So little that is truly known. So much that would be devastating to actually find out... Wraith glances over Blast Off's shoulder briefly. How long was he there? Well...who knows. Seriously. Who. The. Slag. Knows? "I can say... there are two profiles I've been studying extensively, and his is not one of them." He slides into a seat beside the Combaticon, looking towards Shiftlock. "It's easier to just say 'hello' and offer him a glass of wine. Though, he seems to not enjoy my particular vintage." Wraith shrugs, kicking out a seat for Shiftlock to take and smiling. And...just like that, Blast Off is outnumbered. Uncomfortable? More like deadly. "Deadlift, move my afternoon appointment tomorrow back. I know Viscera will gripe, but he'll just have to deal with it." Scorn says when stepping through the Steel Balloon doors after the others, prattling to a tapebot sized ant mech following on her heels. "Yous gots it, boss." He quips, tapping on the datapad diligently while she saunters up to the bar and takes a seat. Teeth flash behind that sharp smile to Airlift and Rumble when spying them both. "Well well, fancy seeing you two here. Anything interesting going on lately?" A quirk of the brow raising while bringing served enertini to her lips and taking a sip. She gives pause, however, when someone calls out the Combaticon's name, her antennas twitching and head turning to view the mech and the femme now joining him. Yeah, this won't end well. "Hanging out with Autobots now, Blast Off?" She muses in a condescending manner, also making sure to eye Wraith heavily. What's that? A femme that Airlift HASN'T hit on yet? Well that just won't do. Spotting Wraith and Shiftlock crowding in on Blast Off, Airlift shifts off his seat at the bar and catches his drink on the way, walking over. Having an abundance of arms makes it easy to grab a chair and spin it around backwards so he can sit comfortably with those huge wings, while still holding a glass and an ener-cigar. "New friends Blast Off? Introductions are in order, aren't they?" he asks, looking towards Wraith. He's interested medically in the so called 'necrobot' due to rumors of advanced energon processing methodologies, but then his optics turn towards Shiftlock in an evaluating fashion.. Repugnus has entered The Steel Balloon. Rumble decides to...go visit Scorn?? Yes, he wanders over to Scorn. "Big news! I got my enerwine certificate! I am now an official expert on all things enerwine! So if you want advice on what's the best kind to get?? I'm your mech! Class is my other name!" He beams proudly. Blast Off continues reading his datapad, and has just picked up his wine glass for another sip through the hatch that opens up through his faceplate. And then- SHIFTLOCK. The always aloof, calm, dignified Combaticon.... nearly flies through the roof. Spitting out the wine in shock and flinging the glass- who even /knows/ where, the shuttleformer slams the back of his seat /hard/ and stares at Shiftlock, optics wide. But he can't talk yet, he's too busy nearly choking on the wine. *cough cough cough* Once his vocalizer is working again, he manages to gasp, "Y-Y-Y-YOU!???!!!??" He slams his own hands on the table in front of him, stiff-armed, and begins launching out of his seat to do...who knows...when suddenly- WRAITH???!! This double-whammy causes him to nearly have a spark attack, and he stumbles back onto his seat, albiet a bit further away from wherever Wraith is. Blast off's optics cannot go wider or paler in color as they stare in hoorror at Wraith, then back to Shiftlock. "Y-You..." He sputters to Wraith, casting a quick glance around like he's worried the "necrobot" will spike his drink again (but oh wait- it got flung off somewhere- never mind...), and then it's back to Shiftlock as the Combaticon looks to actually be fighting panic. "YOU. ...YOU!!!??? What?..." Then, oh slag, what iiiis this? Now /Scorn/ stands before him as well. "....You?" That particular "you" sounds less *shocked* and more... *oh slag... I am SO in trouble now.....* "N-No, Scorn, of course not... they..uh...they..." His optics stare wide at Shiftlock again. "YOU?" Finally, Airlift gets a glare, because the shocked Combaticon is all out of "yous" by now. Wraith blinks... He blinks at Blast Off. He blinks at Shiftlock... and he shoots a nice, toothy grin to Scorn, but then looks back at Blast Off. "Nervous about something?" He reaches for the distracted combaticon's datapad to look over the file on Tarn. "Hmm. What have we here...." Of course, Wraith's not all business. He even goes so far as to kick a chair out for Scorn. Because...well, if Blast Off is going to die, there may as well be all of the key spectators present. Now, all that's needed is Dogfight to show up.... Scorn sniffs faintly when Airlift ignores her, though attention quickly shifts to Rumble when he approaches her. Unfortunately Deadlift doesn't seem to like that, the similarly-sized mech stepping between them and puffing up. "'Ey, five feet from the lady here, gots it?" A tsk tsk from Scorn seems to calm him however, "Be nice, Deadlift, he's fine. An enerwine certificate, mm?" She leans down a little, smiling coyly. "Would you say you're better than Blast Off? Because I could certainly use some recommendations. My other source is losing some credability.." That last part is said just loud enough for Blast Off to hear. Is she messing with him? Who knows! The offer of a seat from Wraith is noted, but declined, the femme simply looking down her non-existant nose at him and sneering a little from her seat at the bar. "I'm quite comfortable here, dear. Anyway.. Do tell, Blast Off, who's this new friend of yours?" Optics are on Shiftlock last, their piercing yellow glow critical and scalding despite calm, pleasant appearance. "That's funny, because CLASSLESS is MY other name!" says a familiar voice. Scorn will find out who it is soon enough as he leans his head over her shoulder to leer at her creepily. "Hi Scorn! Betcha missed me!" He snickers as he pulls away giving her a bit of space. "And... Oooh! What's this! Looks like Blast Off made some new friends!" He approaches their table. "Say, anyone mind if I sit here?" he asks even as he's pulling up a chair and sitting down in it. "Thanks!" That was Repugnus. Unfortunately. Airlift eyes Blast Off for a long moment..then takes his glass and passes it across the table to him. "Here..you need this worse than I do.." he says as he hands the drink over. It's called the Unicronian Planet Smasher..and is a purple color with a light glow to it, with greenish smoke rising off of the surface of the drink..and if Blast Off drinks it, it'll probably come real close to completely overloading the 'wine drinker's fuel systems in one hit. Then his optics turn back to Shiftlock, "don't think we've met..but I have to say, you sure know how to make an entrance.." he says in an amused tone. "I believe you may have broken Blast Off..and not in the conventional fashion." He wasn't ignoring Scorn, he just hadn't gotten around to her yet, because the scene is hectic! His optics slide over to her and slide up and down her, rather openly, "Scorn, always a pleasure to see you as well..haven't been around much lately. Hope all is well my dear, after all, I'd absolutely hate to have you on my table armorless again.." he smiles, "well..for medical reasons." Shiftlock grabs the seat kicked out to her by Wraith without taking her eyes off Blast Off. Oh ho ho, THERE WILL BE WORDS. Maybe other things too, who knows. "Yes, me," she replies to the Combaticon. "I've been hearing a lot of things about you lately. Seems like you're burning through girlfriends faster than Blurr goes through tires. Forgot all about me, did you? I sure as slag didn't forget about you." Shiftlock points at Wraith. "You. Don't know who you are, but you might want to back away slowly from the Combaticon. This one is *mine*, and if I have to take out a laser scapel and carve my initials into his skidplate to prove it, I will." She then points at Airlift. "Busy now, flirty later, got it? Good." Then, to Scorn, "You. If I want to hear the stuck garbage disposal that is your vocoder, I will ripe it out of you and hook it up to a stereo system." Back to Blast Off. Remaining *firmly* in his face, she suddenly REVS her engine, the load, throaty roar that only a high-performance 'super' car can produce. Then, slowly, she brings a finger up to his faceplate, right at nose level, and taps it, a tiny shove. "You and me? Unfinished business. Better get ready to drink like a mech." Rumble doesn't seem much intimidated by Deadlift, he just smirks at the guy. "Wow, wouldja lookit how popular Blast Off is tonight!" he remarks. "Half these people I ain't seen before in here. He must be havin' some kinda party." He nods to Scorn, and begins making out a list of fine enerwine recommendations for her, as he strolls along the counter. Shiftlock gets his attention...wonder what her 'business' with Blast Off is, one can only guess. He tends to make 'friends' from all over. Scorn stiffens up almost instantly at that familiar voice, composure completely falling away and optics flying wide as antennas perk. "Er, Repugnus!" Head whips around and she leans back to view the Monsterbot before trying to regain herself and fix him with a glare. "Hmph, missed you? More like missed stabbing you." She hisses nastily and flexes mandible kibble in irritation at the sides of her face. With a soft huff she finally smoothes out her ruffled 'feathers' and takes another sip of her drink while looking to Airlift. "I'm perfectly fine, don't you worry. Things have just been hectic with the Hive since.. well, that /incident/ in the gulf." AKA crazed Insecticons. Unfortunately his flattery will go missed as Shiftlock flat out insults her, slowly drawing her gaze on a flat expression. Oh, so that's how she wants to play, is it? "..A party, yes.. Rumble dear, apologies, but I need to have a word with Blast Off. I'll be back.." Deadlift, who's sitting on the counter next to Rumble, gives a soft 'uh oh' as the mantis moves to stand beside the Combaticon's table. "Girlfriend..?" The femme stands tall, looming over the mech with hands behind her back and a blank face before a wicked, mocking smile breaks the mold. "Blast Off, don't tell me you've had affiliations with this.. unwashed Autobot tramp? Why that would be.. so uncouth." Yep, she used his word against him. Blast Off stutters back at Wraith, "N-no- nothing....absolutelynothingatall..." and it is //such an obvious lie//. As Wraith takes the datapad with the History Books on it, the Combaticon distractedly attempts a half-hearted grab back. "H-Hey! That is mine, give th..." His voice trails off at Scorn's comment on "losing credibility". Quickly turning to look at Scorn, he stammers, "OF COURSE not!" He points to Shiftlock's badge, "S-she's an AUTOBOT! I'm a *Decepticon*... we...we NEVER are... friends! Or-or ANYTHING ELSE!" By the time Repugnus shows up, Blast Off is pretty much ready to just go crawl off somewhere and die. Please. The Combaticon DOES look like he is somehow trying to just shrink into something "Scorn-as-a-tiny-mantis"-sized and escape away under the table.... if only he could. "NO. NO /FRIENDS/!" He insists to repugnus, sounding desperate by now. When Airlift offers him the drink, the desperately trying-not-to-panic shuttle looks dubiously at it a moment- the grabs that sucker. There's a pause... should he? At the mention of "girlfriends" there's no longer any doubts- there's a sickly sputter of his engines, then he takes Airlift's drink and //chugs it down//. Then stares at her, optics nearly flashing a pale violet panic. "I...what...I...never...I...I have no idea... what do YOU MEAN?!? I... I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT." Yes- his standard way of dealing with things: when all else fails- time for... DENIAL. But Shiftlock's engine rev nearly causes the Combaticon to fly through the roof again, arms flailing until he realizes he's sort of stuck there. There's no escape. Optics still stare as he appears to... was that a *gulp*? And freezes. "Wh- what did you have in mind?" Then...oh slag. The Combaticon just stares up at Scorn forelornly, and shrinks down into his seat. It's...quite pathetic really. "No, see...I..." Wraith regards Shiftlock calmly as she threatens him away from Blast Off. "Never said I wanted him to begin with." He motions towards the nearest wait-staff for a drink, indicating his usual, but holds firm in his seat as he reaches for and continues to look over Blast Off's datapad. "Come now, Blast Off, why can't we be civil and pursue relationships that transcend the boundaries of Decepticon or Autobot when we are not on the battlefield, so long as it does not interfere with our work?" He flashes a smile...and then glances to Scorn. Though, an arched brow is directed towards Shiftlock. He just reaches for his wine as it is delivered, pulling a vial of energon to pour into the drink before stirring it casually and cycling through historical books. He's looking for something specific... and that something would be named Kaon. He frowns, though, as he reads through the information and snippets available. "Mmmm...this vintage is quite nice. Solid malbec through and through." Rumble looks like he totally understands Scorn needs to have a word, or two, or three with Blast Off. Hey, he gets it! Matter of fact, he wouldn't be too surprised if BO decided not to return here for a while after this evening. If he even survived it! Rumble strolls past Wraith, Blast Off, and Scorn while on the bar counter, and ends up beside Airlift, giving the Reavercon a 'get a load a HIM!' kind of look as Blast Off consumes his drink. "Hope it's 2-4-1," he comments. Airlift glances over to Rumble, He mutters to Rumble, "... just... his fuel systems... optics are..." he says to the little blue mech.. "I don't know which is gonna be more fun, watching the wine drinker's first hit of really hardcore enerhol, or watching Scorn and the 'bot tear him apart!" The creature spins and twists about into Repugnus's robot mode! Rumble grins widely when Airlift tells him something, and he stifles a giggle. Now, he seems to be watching Blast Off curiously, as if half-expecting him to keel over. Blitzwing drops Blitzwing's Playmech Deck. Blitzwing collects all the cards and starts to shuffle them. Blitzwing finishes shuffling the cards. Repugnus nods eagerly with Wraith as he annoys Blast Off. "Oh, yes! There's nothing wrong with making friends with the enemy and winning their trust... then luring them to their deaths! It's my favorite hobby! Oh, nuts--did I say that out loud?" he says with a knowing wink to Blast Off. "Anyway, Blasty, whatcha wanna do when we head outta here? There's these DEEP caves I know about somewhere on the planet..." Caves of... uh, murder! Then Repugnus looks back at the bartender. "YO tender! Get me a dirty drink! A REAL dirty drink!" The tender glares back at him and yells, "I run a clean establishment in here! Don't serve dirty drinks!" Repugnus is undeterred. "Nah, nah, you could, like, I dunno, spit in a glass and smear it around, then serve it." The tender just shakes his head and polishes his glass. "Oh, and hey, Shiftlock," Repugnus says with a grin. "Haven't seen you in so long, I thought you were dead!" You receive a radio message from Vortex: JEEZ! Y'know, I love rollercoasters as much as the next mech, but not emotional ones! You're all over the place, what gives? I can't concentrate! You send a radio message to Vortex: I...I...I... I DENY EVERYTHING!!!! You receive a radio message from Vortex: Ack!! Oblivious to the Combaticon's girl problems, Blitzwing sits at the back of the bar, feet hiked up on a very large and very round table. He is flanked by an acute collection of scumbags, ruffians, and rejects. Right in his element. The big triplechanger polishes off a stein of enerbeer, complaining loudly. "Either you call, or you fold. That's yer two options. It's not my fault you went all in and still have child support to pay this month. THOUGH! I could kill your kids, solve that problemf or you. Y'know... FOR A PRICE MUWAHAHAHAHA-eh-hehe-SO what's it going to be, huh?" Blitzwing flips his hand over, revealing a full house. He grins wickedly, waving a hand to the barkeep across the way. "A round for my friend the loser over here, eh?" "I was a neutral when we met," Shiftlock explains out loud to everyone within listening range. "He thought he was gonna teach me how to drink 'properly'. Funny as slag when we pulled out the Nightmare Fuel, proper hand-holding didn't matter much then, did it?" She decides to turn on the thumb screws a bit more. Standing back up, the copper and black femme gives Scorn a good looking over, up and down, leaning around to see her back, then her front. She thumbs at the Insecticon and says to Blast Off, "So, this is the substitute you're using now? Sheesh. I must have broken you if you have to date down the food chain." Then, directly to Scorn: "Better an unwashed Autobot tramp than a humorless cold-fuelled parasite that acts like her bolts are clamped down too tight." She grins skewly. "At least I'm *fun*." The smile leaves her as she looks back to the panicking, sinking shuttleformer. "Y'know... you almost had me convinced to go to the other side. *Almost*. But now, hearing what I'm hearing about you? Seeing this--?" She gestures to Scorn. "--Looks like a dodged a bullet. If this is what turns your starter... " She shakes her head. You receive a radio message from Vortex: Just uh... just calm down buddy. Someone wrinkle your opera poster again? "Hey Repugnus. Yeah, I'm not dead. Good to see you're not either!" Shiftlock adds belatedly. You send a radio message to Vortex: :makes several unseemly whimpers. "Help meeeee..." You receive a radio message from Vortex: What? What's wrong? Rumble feels like he's in Fight Heaven. This is where the femmes come to throw down? And he's right in the middle of it! How could he have lucked out so much?? He sits on the counter, watching this encounter between Scorn and Shiftlock in rapt attention. Airlift eyes Shiftlock as she goes into that tirade, and looks..well..it's a mix of admiration, shock, awe, and like he's probably going to do a bit of that flirting she mentioned before first chance he can get her off someplace less dramatic. Spunky little thing, isn't she! He slips out of his chair and eeeeases around the table over closer towards Scorn, under guise of moving nearer a waitstaff, "I need another Unicronian Planet Smasher.." he hmms, "You know what. Make it a double and bring two of them.." he says in retrospect as he settles in behind Scorn, leaning on the next table over..Repugnus gets a nod, "You're an ugly one, aren't ya.." he says conversationally, then calls out, "Make that three UPS's, one for my ugly friend here.." he motions to Pug. You send a radio message to Vortex: I NEED SOMEWHERE TO HIDE. Some place neither AUTOBOTS or DECEPTICONS can find me. Maybe Jupiter is nice this time of year?????!!! (Blast off sounds FAR more panicked than...well, ever) Blitzwing cackles at Shiftlock, yelling at Blast Off from across the bar while dealing out another hand, "EVERYTHING SHE SAID IS TRUUUUUUUEEEEeeee-alright boys, 5 card draw. No wilds. Pick yer poison, round's on me." Blast Off glances nervously at Wraith, and is a mite bit too busy to try to protest as the Autobot thumbs through his datapad. "Uh... I don't...well, that could... WAIT, RELATIONSHIPS? THERE ARE NO RELATIONSHIPS. NO one said ANYTHING about...r-r..." There's a blink as the effects of Airlift's drink first begin to hit. "Uh..." He looks with some distaste as Wraith pours a vial of energon into his drink... much as he did the other night into Blast Off's without him knowing. Eeerrrgh... now he feels ill on top of all this. There's a twitch of his head, and it might be the thought of the spiked drink, it might be whatever the slag he just drank- orrrr possibly both. Repugnus gets stare. "C-caves? Are... they...roomy caves?" Then he shakes his head, "NO. No caves. I'm not going to any Primus-forsake caves..." Though right now... hiding in a deep dark cave doesn't actually sound that bad..... Especially as Shiftlock goes into history lessons of her OWN. The Combaticon straightens up in an indignant huff. "I...That was... We did nothing of the sort! That was..." He blinks. "That was... Wait, that was Nightmare Fuel?" A hand goes to his forehead like *what have I done?* and he mutters to himself, "No wonder then..." Then it's back to staring at Shiftlock. "There was NEVER ANYTHING BETWEEN US! You-you're an AUTOBOT!" Blast Off quickly looks to Scorn and sounds almost apologetic, "Really, trust me Scorn, I would never have ANYTHING to do with an Autobot...I mean, why /would/ I? That would be... uh, well, yes, uncouth! Exactly! And I'm the total picture of... of...COUTHness!" (Is that even a word?) Shiftlock's mention of "being fun" gets a sudden, lingering (possibly for a bit too long) glance at the Autobot femme... then back to Scorn. And he waits for her reply... nervously. Meanwhile, it seems more drinks have arrived from an unknown source.... Blast Off hears something yelled back there about "It's True" and he immediately replies, "NO IT IS NOT." Blitzwing deals 5 cards to himself. <'Decepticon'> Vortex says, "I dunno' what you slaggers are up to but Blast Off's frothin' over frequencies so you'd better be nice to him! We need Bruticus!" <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "I AM NOT FROTHING!!!!!!" <'Decepticon'> Vortex says, "Yes you are bud." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "NO...NO I AM MOST CERTAINLY NOT I AM THE PICTURE OF CALM COLD ALOOFNESS...ESSNESSS" <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "Blast Off's got 99 problems and $&**$!& are ALL of them, ahahaha." <'Decepticon'> Airlift says, "Go home Blast Off, yer drunk." <'Decepticon'> Vortex really can't help but bust up. Sorry Blast Off. Blitzwing discards two of his cards. Blitzwing deals 2 cards to himself. Blitzwing collects all the cards and starts to shuffle them. Blitzwing finishes shuffling the cards. "You what? Hm? Have no excuse? That's more than clear." Scorn scoffs under her breath in what sounds like disgust. Now, Shiftlock is lucky Scorn doesn't outright cut her in half for that remark, but thankfully the mantis has yet to do her worst. Plus, if anything happens? Well, there's a lot of Cons here to back her up, and Blitzwing just made that count go up, though that comment isn't appreciated. "Parasite?" The feme actually bursts out in a hearty laugh and sets her drink down while flicking away an invisible tear. "Oh dear, is that the best you can do? Sweetie, for a Con like me parasite is a compliment. Now as for you.." She gives Shiftlock a once over now, rubbing her chin and smiling viciously with an offhanded comment to Blast Off's ranting, "Blast Off, do be quiet. I'll deal with you later.." Uh oh. "Hm.. You were a neutral?" A lean in to wiggle antenna tips briefly, getting a smell of her. "You don't smell like those wilderness neutrals. mm, no, I smell the city.. Crystal City." Smile grows, curling into a chesire grin bearing razor sharp teeth as she croons to the femme with digging words. "You didn't have any friends over there, did you? Because I must say, we took a great deal of them you know. Sniffing them out and pulling them from their holes like turborats." A whistful sigh escapes her as she reminisces. "They didn't taste too bad, I'll admit. A bit.. filthy, but when has that stopped an Insecticon." Another dark chuckle. "Now the screams.. Oh yes, the screams were the best part of the meal." She stares Shiftlock in the optics when saying this, all the while smiling. "The begging to be put out of their misery, to end the absolute agony of being eaten piece by piece. Such a shame you managed to squirm away before we got you too..." Wraith starts...digging. He's got the datapad, and as long as he's browsing through the files about the DJD, he might as well delve a bit deeper. Just to see what sort of nice intel can be gleaned from the datapad itself... might as well install something sneaky while he's at it. Or...just uplink it to his own datapad for a mass file transfer. That sounds about right.... "Come now, the lot of you sound very eager to just let fists fly. This is neither the time nor place." He looks at Scorn and grins. "I can name a few, though, if you prefer to meet elsewhere." He chuckles softly and looks back at the datapad. "Scorn...if you really want to try and take a bite out of someone," he grins thinly, "best make sure you are asking the right mech." Repugnus smirks. "Aw, Scorn's not so bad, Shifty. Sometimes she even cleans the bits of her last victim out of her teeth! I always forget to do that! But really, Blast Off, you should try the caves. They're not so bad! Plenty of room to transform in! Well, depending on what you transform into, heheh!" Then, a creepy Unicronian offers a drink to the creepy Monsterbot, who turns to grin at him. "Why, yes, thank you, I worked quite hard on my looks! Though my alternate mode is just adorbs! You should see the cons who haven't seen it before--they just freeze in place, overwhelmed by the cuteness!" Repugnus tries to add, "YO, TENDER, MAKE IT A DIRTY GLASS!" to which he yells back, "NO!" <'Decepticon'> Scorn says, "Blast Off, I do hope you realize we'll be speaking sometime after this." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "Um.... (small voice).... Ok." <'Decepticon'> Scorn says, "Good answer." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "OOOOooooooOOOOOoooo your in troubuuuuuuuuuuuuul" <'Decepticon'> Vortex says, "Are you going to... (clears vents) Are you going to torture him..." <'Decepticon'> Scorn says, "I haven't quite decided yet." <'Decepticon'> Airlift says, "Don't worry Blast Off, she probably won't take your head considering Mantis' do that when they mate..and odds of that just went down exponentially." <'Decepticon'> Buzzsaw says, "No torturing our field commander. I need him to fulfill some objectives." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "She's certainly going to take yer ball bearings, ha!" <'Decepticon'> Scorn says, "Now now, it's not like I'm going to kill him, Buzzsaw." <'Decepticon'> Airlift says, "Don't worry Buzzsaw, I'd be glad to provide medical supervision to Scorn to be certain that Blast Off remains..operative.. after all, I do so enjoy watching those who share in one of my hobbies.." <'Decepticon'> Buzzsaw says, "Operational is one thing. Fully functional and aware of his actions is another." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "WAIT, WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT MATING AND HEAD TAKING?" <'Decepticon'> Scorn says, "Hnn.." <'Decepticon'> Vortex says, "Blast Off, whatever you did, say your sorry! Onslaught's gonna' be pissed!" <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "I'M SORRY. ...Wait... that doesn't ...seem right somehow? .....Vortex, am I drunk?" <'Decepticon'> Vortex says, "I... can't tell." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "I forgive you for existing. Thanks buddy." <'Decepticon'> Onslaught says, "Why me." <'Decepticon'> Onslaught radio goes off. <'Decepticon'> Runamuck says, "The mighty Decepticon army, Ladies and Gents." <'Decepticon'> Buzzsaw says, "The readout from the sensors I had installed on you indicate a high level of impairment." <'Decepticon'> Vortex says, "Oh look what you did!" <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "ONSLAUGHT, WAIT.... NO.... Come back....." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "Oooooh, now daddy's mad. Ha ha ha." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "You are all horrible sons." <'Decepticon'> Vortex says, "Hey, I'm not getting my head eaten." Shiftlock stands there and listens to Scorn dress her down, examine her, tell the tale of the suffering of her comrades, team mates and loved ones as if the memory were a treasured bedtime story that kept the mantis warm on lonely nights. Slowly, Shiftlock's lips curl at the edges, a little more with each word, until her lips are sitting in the warm bow of a perfectly amused smile. Silently she thanks Impactor for toughening her up. She might have actually reacted to that kind of baiting in the past. "Gotta give you an A for effort on that one," the copper car replies casually. "That even sounded pretty the way you said it. Yeah, Crystal Sentinel here. I hear there aren't many of us left, and I hear that you and yours are kind of to blame for that." She rolls her shoulder and relaxes her stance. "But hey, that's war. How long has our race been doing this? How high's the body count on both sides now? A million's a statistic, or so I've heard." Her optics brighten and her mood suddenly seems to swing in a totally different direction as she drags her gaze over Scorn's frame. "Y'know... maybe I had you pegged wrong. If you're good enough for Blasty, well..." She leans in closer to Scorn and kicks her engines out of neutral, rumbling them hard enough to shake the floor around her, and potentially anyone nearby, slyly leering at the Insecticon femme. "We should play sometime," she whispers into Scorn's audioceptors. <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "WHO's GETTING THEIR HEAD EATEN?!? That's /it/... yes, I think Jupiter would be lovely this time of year...... I'm going to hide there. For about 5 years. They should forget by then, shouldn't they, Vortex?" <'Decepticon'> Vortex says, "Erm." <'Decepticon'> Buzzsaw says, "I never forget." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "You should hide in Uranus." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing snickers. <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "Why? That's awfully cold and far from the sun and.... ..... ..... Oh. ....*HUFFFF*" Blitzwing says, "I have a video camera. Just sayin'" <'Decepticon'> Vortex says, "Yeah I can't help ya'. I gotta' go unpiss off Onslaught!" <'Decepticon'> Vortex says, "I guess that'd make it piss on." <'Decepticon'> Vortex says, "That doesn't seem right." <'Decepticon'> Vortex says, "BOSS where'd ya go!?" Wait, what's *this*? They're not going to *fight*? Sexy time at the Steel Balloon? Rumble clenches his fists, looking crestfallen, almost disappointed enough to cry. Whatever happened to the good old days, when femmes would actually throw down and wreck places trying to rip each other to pieces?? He gets up, and strolls over to sit by Blitzwing, frowning bitterly. Blast Off keeps babbling a moment until Scorn tells him to be quiet. And, uncharacteristicly, the Combaticon obeys immediately. Yeee-ah... he's beat- and he's also getting quite a buzz from that Unicronian Planet Smasher. Small voice. "...Ok." And he actually sits there quietly a moment, optics appearing to go in and out of focus... Eventually they focus in on Wraith digging through his datapad, and he tries to lunge to grab it.... which is proving rather difficult given how uncoordinated he's beginning to feel. "That... is... MINE." He blinks and begins trying to lean in and grab the datapad again- then Wraith mentions biting people and the shuttle jerks backwards very quickly, falling back into his seat. "Go find your own history books..." Blast Off watches Shiftlock and Scorn and...and...wait, //what//? The shuttle holds up his hand to his optics, trying to judge his visual acuity and determine just how DRUNK he is, for surely he must be quite drunk by now. Especially to have seen THAT. Which... isn't possible- except...oh slag. He stares in mortification at Shiftlock ...hitting on Scorn? The Combaticon suddenly lunges forward, his own hands slamming on the table. "NOW WAIT JUST ONE MOMENT! What IS this? First you come in here and ...and... propose...uncouth things about..about ME...and now...Scorn? This..this cannot stand!!!!" He points a finger dramatically in the air, and that gesture apparently made him unable to stand as well, for he goes slamming back down on his seat rather ungracefully- and this is the guy who's usually the picture of poise. <'Decepticon'> Runamuck says, "Galvatron uber alles, Uber alles in der Walt...o/~" Blitzwing pats Rumble on the head. "Sup lil buddy? Have a beer. Tell me of our WOES" Airlift's drink comes and he takes a long pull off of one of the two he ordered for himself, a backup in a spare hand, the other drink handed off to Repugnus. "You know..I get two femmes throwing down and all that. I can even get behind it..I mean..I haven't checked under the chassis of yer Autobot there, but speaking for Scorn, I have to say, she's top quality engineering. Some of the finest I've ever seen, an' I've seen a lot. Her micronization systems are top of the line galaxy wide, and her power distribution allows incredible output levels.." he muses before taking another drink. "I mean. It's gotta just be a territory thing..you know.. Cause seriously..this much trouble over Blast Off?" he shakes his head, "Even BLAST OFF can't stand to hang out with Blast Off. What is it..they dig the suffering type? I mean..Scorn, yeah..I can see that. Suffering makes a lot of con's circuits heat up. No surprise there..but the Autobot?" he shakes his head, "bit strange for one like her don'cha think? Shouldn't she be out huggin' a tree or saving a turbo-kitten or something?" "Other hand..a 'bot with that much attitude.. Kinda hot.." he hmms, "shame she can't fly." Takes another drink, finishing the first glass and setting it aside to start on the second as he watches Blast Off collapsing. "Hey Scorn, looks like yer boy there can't hold his liquor for all his talk o' bein' a player.." he says with a laugh. "What say we leave him to sleep it off an you come on over an keep me company instead.." he says as he pulls a chair out again to sit at the next table over, patting a knee. Wraith looks up at Blast Off as the combaticon strikes that indignant pose... and takes a picture. A picture that quickly gets stored on his own datapad, right along with everything else that the shuttleformer might have squirreled away. He'll sort through and dredge it all up later. But...that picture.... "Oh, indeed, it is yours." He slides the datapad over to Blast Off and resumes sipping his wine. "We're not going to have any trouble here, are we? I hope you can control yourself, Blast Off, and save me the trouble." He looks over to Scorn. "I welcome your trouble, but another time would be best." He nods curtly and looks at Shiftlock, shrugging casually and sending her the picture he just took of Blast Off. Or...wait. Did that just get uploaded to the main Autobot communication network? "You'll have to wait your turn, Wraith." Scorn replies smoothly to the mech with a smirk flashing in turn, though it halts in mild surprise when Shiftlock suddenly steps in close and makes those engines purr. Seems the story has no effect, which is a shame, but the Autobot makes a mistake when leaning in and trying to throw off her off with a proposal. "Is that so..?" The mantis mutters softly back, halfmast optics looking sidelong at her and a light smirk curling lips. "..How about here?" Blast Off won't have to be jealous for long, because in an instant Shiftlock will be standing before Scorn's altmode. Like lightning her mandibles split wide and head snaps forward to try and catch the Autobot's face in them and chomp away. Pucker up, sweetheart! Scorn crouches before shifting into her scythe-armed mantis mode. Combat: Robotic Praying Mantis sets her defense level to Fearless. Combat: Robotic Praying Mantis strikes Shiftlock with her Kiss of Death attack! "I don't get why the femmes gotta be like they are, they're just --" Rumble begins telling Blitzwing -- and then, he notices Scorn transforming to attack Shiftlock, and it's like someone flipped a switch on him. His attention is instantly riveted to the brawl. "OK, now THAT'S more like it," he drools. Yeah, he's drooling fluid. No shame. Blitzwing stares at Shiftlock and Scorn, just as riveted as Rumble. The triplechanger smears a napkin all over Rumble's face without looking away because he can hear him drooling. Airlift amends his pose, and hops immediately back up out of that seat to lunge for Scorn and attempt to grab the giant mantis thing to pull her away from Shiftlock, "Wooooah there Scorn..not the place for that sort of hanky panky!" And miraculously -- -- Shiftlock stands there and takes it. She doesn't move, doesn't flinch, as Scorn transforms and lunges in for her face. Even as the mesh peels and the gears give way to the scissoring action of the Insecticon's jaws, it's as if the pain simply does not register to the rough and tumble fembot. Does she feel it? Oh yes she does, but she wanted this. She wanted the trial by fire, to test her mettle and see how much she could take before she gave out. There's no better way to do this, at least in Shiftlock's mind, than in a semi-controlled environment against enemies. Friends would hold back their blows. Scorn won't. She has no reason to. "Not bad," she crackles, jaw damaged but vocoder intact. "I kinda felt that one." "Eh, you make her sound like a Porsche," Repugnus says to Airlift as he takes the drink from him. He peers into the glass as he considers taking a drink. "Anyway, I thought all these Insecticons were supposed to be like, cheap replicas of each other or something, with crude, thrown-together builds and all that." Repugnus might know better and is just trying to annoy Scorn. "And don't think too harshly of her cuz she's a bot, now!" Repugnus smirks, twirling the glass around a bit. "SOME of us bots would rather eat the kitten than save it. Granted, we're in the minority, but I know that one there's got a mean streak. In case you didn't know, she didn't start out as one of us! She got her start in the mean streets of Crystal City, and had her life destroyed by--get this--the Decepticons!" Repugnus might be making some of this up as he goes along. "So honestly, I think she oughta be stabbing that 'con rather than..." His optics bug out as Scorn "makes out" with Shiftlock. "Woah now! Hold on--" He glances back at Wraith. "Eh... should we do something...?" A glance back at Shiftlock. "Oh, wait, she didn't seem to mind too much. Well, that's not usually the reaction to Scorn's bitey scary split face thing. That glitch be crazy!" Wraith slides Blast Off's datapad over to the combaticon and stands, moving over to rest a hand on Shiftlock's shoulder. "We should leave." He looks over at Scorn and smirks. "As adventurous as this was, let's save future ventures for outside of the neutral establishments. I rather enjoy the few things I can get with no strings attached." He reaches over to take what's left of his laced wine, polishing it off and leaving the glass behind as gives Pug a slight grin and shrug. "We should, but what is done is done." Blast Off sputters at Airlift indignantly, but remains seated, since he's not exactly sure he CAN stand up now. "They obviously go for my *magnificent*...uh... uh..." He blinks, what /do/ they go for? "...My magnificent sense of CLASS and... and //savoir faire//! ...And, uh, SKILL!" There's a small huff, and he looks a bit self-satisfied. ".../MANY/ skills..." He sways a bit more, but as Airlift proceeds to hit on Scorn he stiffens up again. "You will do NO such thing! I..." Wraith distracts him by sliding the datapad over. His tirade towards Airlift is forgotten as he blankly stares at the datapad. "Oh! Yes. Right. ...Good." He puffs up a bit and grabs the datapad. "ABOUT TIME, too!" There's a small glare and he proclaims "I am COMPLETELY in control!" ...and promptly drops the datapad. Grumbling, he bends down to grab it and sit straight again. "COMPLETELY." Then Scorn lunges at Shiftlock and SWEETPRIMUSWHATISTHAT??!!! Blast Off flails arms again, sending the datapad flying... somewhere. Probably the drink too, if it's still there. His arms are probably still flailing. "OH! OH. UGH. NO... I...I did NOT need to see that..." After he's quite cleared his table of pretty much... everything, he stops flailing drunkenly and... looks up to see the aftermath. Huh. Shiftlock took that... quite well, actually. Certainly better than HE would have. He likes Scorn... quite a bit, but... that face...well, he tries not to think of that too much. Then he just stares at the two femmes... not even sure what to think anymore. Aw, talk about party pooper! Scorn is just getting to the good bits when Airlift butts in and pulls her back, making her hiss at him and click a few lines in Insecticonese before transforming back to root mode. "I can do what I please where I please." She snaps at him and shrugs off a hand, quickly turning back to Shiftlock to flash energon coated teeth in a messy smile. "Heh, you taste just like your friends. Like a filthy turborat." Bright violet slithering down her neck and chassis in thin rivulets is swabbed from her chin with a thumb and licked off. "But if that didn't do it for you then by all means seek me out. I'll be sure to give you some proper attention next time." A cheeky wink and a kiss to the air is sent to Shiftlock. Now as for the drooling and/or frightened mechs? Welp, show's over, sorry folks. "Deadlift! Another drink." She calls without looking, making the little mech nearly jump before bringing her another enertini that she downs in one swift go. Standing up straight, Scorn shifts back into sexy robot mode. Airlift grins and offers Scorn his spare drink as an immediate solution to needing a drink. Scorn swipes that next and throws it back too. Is she even swallowing or just pouring it in at this point? Shiftlock nods to Wraith as he comes into contact with her. "Yeah, yeah," she crackles. "I suppose so. Better'n the time I went to the Yellow Flag. Got thrown out after the third time it was shot up and burned to the ground. Go fig." She 'grins' at Blast Off with exposed, broken internals. "Hey, just think - you get to enjoy this too!" Turning to leave, she glances at Scorn. "Fifty one," she says over her shoulder, before heading out the door. Wraith goes to follow Shiftlock out...but not before nabbing Blast Off's tossed Datapad. Hey, he gave it back... Not his fault the Combaticon decided to throw it. He slides it away with a soft chuckle, stepping out of the Steel Balloon. "Good evening, all of you. May peaceful dreams find you." Blast Off hufffs softly as Airlift man(tis)handles Scorn, but he's a bit too drunk to do much about it right now. Especially as Shiftlock grins at him and.... ooooh slag. Horrified, the Combaticon stares at her, the damage on her face.... and then over at Scorn. His optics widen again, and he seems to lean awaaay from the mantis. Who he then just stares at for a very long time. He doesn't notice Wraith slip away, but he does push himself up off the table to (very unsteadily) go looking for that datapad. He knows it's around here somewhere... Airlift eyes Scorn as she downs drinks like it's nobodies tomorrow, "You alright there Scorn? Really..I thought you were primarily just acting miffed for the humor of it..but seems like that little bit of Blast Off's sordid past got under yer armor a bit.." he says, smiling at the Insecticon. "You gotta expect that a guy like Blast Off, bouncin' around as many femme's as he's been involved with and crashed and burned with, is gonna have some ex's wander up from time to time makin' a scene.." he points out with a shake of his head. "Hate ya had to find out somethin' like an Autobot in his past so..dramatically..and publicly.." Repugnus waggles fingers at Scorn as he stand up. "Laaaaater Scorn! You'll just have to chew the rest of her face off some other time." Getting a transmission to approach Shiftlock, he begins to do so. Trouble is, though, he decided to finally guzzle in one go the thing Airlift got for him, so what would've been a slight increase in pace instead becomes a clumsy stumble as the UPS shoots straight to his processor. "Fwrgh--" Combat: Repugnus strikes Shiftlock with his Instantly Drunk (Grab) attack! Shiftlock is drunken grabbed. Pauses. "... Y'know I think you've had enough," she gargles, attempting to grab Pug back and drag him out via his ear-equivalent. Combat: Shiftlock strikes Repugnus with her Grab attack! Scorn polishes off the drink and licks her lips, idly cleaning herself off with an offered rag. "You think I care about another femme? Even less an Autobot?" She snorts in amusement as she eyes Airlift. "Hardly. True, I'm disappointed he'd settle for gutter trash, but I honestly don't care about that." As she shouldn't, because then she'd be a hypocrite. This is Scorn we're talking about, people. So while the Autobots drag themselves out, and Repugnus gets a sneer, the mantis drops down in a seat and sighs softly. "No no, it's more of a.. thing between femmes, I suppose. I was merely sizing her up. And besides, I'm not about to let someone speak to me that way." Rag is tossed onto the counter once she's clean, Scorn taking a toothpick from subspace after and getting out stray bits of Shiftlock from between her teeth. Repugnus is hauled out unceremoniously. Blast Off cannot find that that blasted datapad now. "Where... IS it? I..I thought it... went this way..." Oh slag, he had better not have lost it. Primus forbid someone actualy READ some of the things on there... getting more agtitated, he keeps scanning the area for the missing piece of tech, then glances over at Airlift upon hearing his name. "What...what was that? Bouncing around.. SORDID??? I..WHAT? /WHAT/??? Who do you take me FOR??? I am the picture of poise and high class and... and /dignity/!!" He naturally ends up stumbling over a chair about that time, only catching himself due to ridiculously high agility, which shines through- even as drunk as he is right now. Then Repugnus falls on Shiftlock, and the Combaticon stiffens and straightens up to watch. And stares as he deftly truns the tables to drag him away. Wow. That was...actually kinda impressive. He tilts his head, as if admiring the view as she leaves.... Scorn snaps without looking, as if knowing where Blast Off is looking. "/Blast Off/." She then looks to him with a steely-opticed stare. "We have things to discuss soon. Be sure to remain in contact, because I'd hate to have to come find you." Blitzwing says, "What a buncha weirdos." Blitzwing collects all the cards and starts to shuffle them. Blitzwing finishes shuffling the cards. Blitzwing wonders if anyone else plays Pokemon in here. Someone throws a white-and-red ball at Blitzwing's head. Airlift decides that things have settled down, and eyes Scorn and Blast Off for a minute.. "It's because he's a sub isn't it.." he muses to Scorn.. "I mean, it's gotta be..there's no other explanation.." he shakes his head and sits back down in the chair he was in before, kicking his feet up and putting them on Blast Off's table comfortably as he waves waitstaff over and orders another. It'll be his fourth UPS of the night..seems like the medic is more of a drinker than people realized..and he lights up another ener-cigar as he gets comfortable. "So now that the floor show is over.." he muses, looking around. Blitzwing glances over at Airlift, rolls his optics, and goes back to drinking beer and playing poker. Blast Off is gazing after that nice "view" still when suddenly he stiffens up in terror at a ...voice. Optics slowly shift to look over at Scorn. Who, by this point, seems to possibly have five heads.... but maybe that's just because he's drunk and the room is spinning. The Combaticon shrinks back down into a chair. "....Yes ma'am." Then he remains seated, because when the room is spinning, it's sort of a chair- or the floor. And he's lost enough dignity as is. Airlift's comments get a blank stare. "Sub? I'm a space shuttle, not a submarine. Tsk! And I thought *I* was drunk..." Blitzwing makes a whip crack noise sound effect behind Blast Off. "Don't be so antisocial, Blitzwing." Scorn calls over to the triplechanger. "You've barely said a word to us this entire time." Is she inviting him over? Perhaps. "I'm not telling." She smirks playfully at Airlift. "You sound a bit disappointed by that.." She's teasing now, but soon rolls her shoulders. "I'll just have another drink before I go. I've things to do." And people to punish, AKA the shuttle who she's fixed on now. Yeah, this isn't going to go well for him. Airlift smiles at Scorn, a wicked little smile, "I suppose I am just a bit..yes. Since I'm not a particularly submissive individual.." he grins, "but if you ever need to borrow a whip, let me know..I've got all sorts of toys in the office you might enjoy.." The Unicronian levels a wicked, evil look on Scorn as he adds, "just drop by any time Scorn, and I'll even show you how to use them to maximum effect.." he offers. Shiftlock leaves The Steel Balloon. Blitzwing pantomimes a face like OH MY GOD AIRLIFT BAAAAAARF. Blast Off DOES nearly go through the roof as a whip suddenly craacks behind him. That's the power of anti-gravs for ya. Hanging from a ceiling light fixture for a moment, he is just about to let go and (try to) land gracefully on the floor when he catches sight of Scorn's glare. NOPE. Just nope. He draws back and holds onto the lights just a little tighter, looking down at the femme- from a safe distance. He might even stay there like that, too, except the light fixture gives out and he gets sent back onto the floor- less than gracefully. Ow. Pushing himself back up and brushing himself off, and feeling rather overwhelmed by... //everything//... he staggers back to a chair to sit and glare at Airlift. "That's... that's...uncouth." There's an upset glance to Scorn, and he's just about to protest- and then takes another look at Scorn and suddenly decides right now isn't the time to demand *anything* with her. So suddenly he's back to looking around the room, wondering where ever did that datapad go...... Blitzwing cranes his neck upwards, peering at Blast Off. Blitzwing says, "What happened to you while I was dead? Sheesh." "Oh, I'll more than happily take a look. You'll probably be hearing from me soon." A slow smile crawls across Scorn's features at Blast Off until she turns to polish off one final drink and nods to Airlift. "Doctor, good to see you again, as always." Standing after, Deadlift trails once again at her heels as she sashays past Blast Off, not even bothering to acknowledge him again. Instead she stops beside Blitzwing, smirking at the triplechanger and dancing sharp fingers over a large shoulder. "Now now, be nice. His.. behavior will be dealt with soon. As for you, we haven't talked since you came back from the dead. We'll have to fix that." With that said, Scorn continues on her way out the door. Blitzwing smiles sweetly at Blast Off from his poker table. "Looking for that datapad? I used it as collateral for one of my hands awhile back. Hope there wasn't anything important on there, like unarmored pictures of Scorn or whatever. I mean, hi Scorn," Blitzwing offers as the femme approaches. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm always nice. It's a weakness of mine. Anyway, yeah... we'll talk once you whittle down your list of clientele, how about that?" the triplechanger asks, pointing at Airlift and Blast Off in succession. Blast Off looks slightly crestfallen at Scorn's acceptance of Airlift's invitation, and it appears he's having to again /stop/ himself from protesting. Buuut... he probably better not. No. Not wise. Not right now. The shuttleformer fidgets in his chair, finally pushing it up to a table just as Scorn sashays past- without looking at him. Blast Off's gaze follows her as she makes her way to Blitzwing. Blitzwing? When'd he show up?! The Combaticon blinks, then his fingers dig into the sides of his chair as she flirts with the triplechanger too. AARRRGH.... Must. Not. Say. Anything. But Blitzwing's claim is too much. "WHAT? You...you didn't! You COULDN'T. I had... I had ... I HAD THINGS ON THERE." There's a blink. "Pictures of...Scorn? Why...I.... OH! Oh. ...Oh no." Realization dawns and he turns to watch as Scorn walks out, trying not to panic again. QUICK. He needs ANOTHER DRINK. Airlift the ever helpful sides a drink across to Blast Off..more of the same, only a double this time. Blitzwing points at the drink, points at Blast Off. "You need that." Blast Off GUZZLES it. Autobot Message: 3/150 Posted Author Intel Grab Jun 12 2014 Wraith ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Autobo-wait, no... That's not the Autobot spinny. That's a picture of Blast Off, drunk and standing defiantly as a finger points skyward...and he looks so unstable it's likely he fell over shortly after. Yes. That is a drunk Combaticon looking the fool while holding a 'disco' pose. "Wraith here, sending this via standard Intel encryption protocols. Assisted by a distraction courtesy Shiftlock, I managed to acquire and copy the contents of the Combaticon Blast Off's personal datapad. In a fit of drunken rage, he flung it away and I managed to secure the datapad as well. Both my copied records and the original datapad are being sent via authorized courier to be evaluated, and an additional copy has been made available for immediate access by Blaster, Jazz, and Arcee." Wraith pauses for a moment. "Uh...be advised, there is a LOT of personal things on there that are...well, let's just say steamy. Seems our Combaticon has a taste for things he cannot have. Or is just very, very lonely. I'll leave it to our techie spooks to dig out the good stuff and leave you with this picture. I recommend using it for as many things possible." Wraith's voice and image fade out to be replaced, once more, by the drunken disco Blast Off.